


Spirited Away

by Hessy



Series: The Ranger Mishaps [3]
Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Afterlife AU, Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Gen, I promise, Minor Character Death, RA Fanfic Challenge, RA Fanfic Challenge #2, Reunion, but it ends well, no graphic scenes, the beginning is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23277517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hessy/pseuds/Hessy
Summary: Afterlife AU. Everyone fears death, but Halt discovers there's more to it than just sadness and grief. [Written for RA Fanfic Challenge #2]
Relationships: Crowley Meratyn & Halt O'Carrick
Series: The Ranger Mishaps [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696990
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: RA Fanfiction Challenge #2





	Spirited Away

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovely people! This is my fic for the "RA fanfiction challenge #2". Yes, I "borrowed" the title from a studio Ghibli movie.

It was a chilly spring evening and Halt had just returned from Will's cabin. The cold wind blew into his face but he ignored the chills it sent down his spine and got off Abelard. The old horse snorted and tried to put his head into Halt's cloak so he would be at least a bit protected. 

Halt scratched him on the nose. Abelard had white fur there and it reminded Halt just how _old_ they both were. Halt had retired twelve years ago and Abelard should’ve retired even before that. They were literally a pair of veterans now, both barely standing, ready to go on. By now both Halt and Pauline had to use a crutch to help them move around. The pain in their backs was too much and Pauline hadn’t left their chambers for months now. She was becoming too frail and weak every day and the castle’s physicians believed that she didn’t have much time left on this earth. Halt was usually the one who took care of her, but Baron Noah always remembered to send a servant to check on them every evening. Baron Arald, unfortunately, passed away two years prior and a young noble with likeable personality, Noah, took his place. 

Halt’s mind flashed to both his apprentices. Gilan was doing well as the Ranger Commandant, even though his age had begun to show and he didn’t spend as much time out in the field as he used to. Will was dealing with his second apprentice. After Madelyn graduated and became a full-fledged Ranger helping Gilan with the Araluen fief (since she still had her duties as the crown princess), Will didn’t think he could handle the loneliness and emptiness in his heart a second time, so after a year of coming in and out of depressive state he sought out a new apprentice. This time it was also a girl who, just like Will himself, came from the Redmont Ward. Halt didn’t know much about her, just that she was originally from Toscana and so far she was proving to be a good choice on Will’s part. 

Everything was fine. Halt looked at the sky and let the chilly wind brush against his face. Oh dear, he was becoming sentimental in his old age. Uncharacteristically, he sighed. Apart from Pauline, all his friends, his allies, were gone. It was time for the new generation to take the reins of life into their hands. 

That evening, Halt dined with Pauline. He noted that she was losing the colour in her cheeks fast. The winter was long and everyone was tired. Pauline developed a bad cough and couldn't get rid of it, no matter how many days she spent in her bed. Jenny, Will's friend, sent the delicious meal up to the castle and for once, she willed herself to get up and sit at the table. 

That night, Halt couldn’t sleep. He listened to Pauline’s shallow breaths and tried to make out the movement of her chest rising and falling again with each breath. This, in the absolute darkness of the place, was pretty hard to do. It was nearing two hours in the morning when Halt finally fell asleep. 

His consciousness started to register the noise well before he woke up. It was vaguely familiar; he recognized it from somewhere. Halt tried to open his eyes, but he found he couldn’t do so as easily. 

He felt a light tap on his cheek. In his sleep, he made an expression. It must’ve been morning and he surely slept in, that’s why Pauline or even some servant tried to wake him up. 

“Come on, sleepyhead! It’s morning already!” His mind could finally register the noise. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in a long time. At that moment, Halt decided that was still very much sleeping, and therefore dreaming. There was no way Crowley could be here. He was dead. Passed away years ago. And once someone was dead, they couldn’t go back. Halt knew that.

Another tap on his cheek. Halt got annoyed. Why couldn’t he open his eyes? He tried feeling his hands. Moving them, too. Halt found out that everything worked like it was supposed to, so when another tap on his cheek came, his arm shot out and grabbed whoever was trying to make him miserable. It was then he finally opened his eyes. 

The first thing he saw was that he no longer lay in his bed at castle Redmont. No, he was in a place that looked a lot like the Gathering grounds. Halt's mind couldn't grasp why he was here. He did have a pretty good idea though. He just didn't want to believe it. 

The second thing was Crowley’s face. His best friend was crouched low; his hand raised to once again poke him. No, this couldn’t be real. Halt knew he was in denial, but this was his mind playing awful tricks on him. 

The most visible change, however, was that he was young again. They were both young. They looked as though they had just met in that inn in the Gorlan fief so long ago.

“Where- Where am I?” he asked, his voice betraying him the first time he tried to speak up. Crowley let out a low hum and sat down in the grass. 

“How do I tell you this?” he mused aloud. Then, he smiled. “I’m your conscience, Halt.” 

The grimly Ranger narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t believe that even if this was years ago during their adventures, and he sure as hell wouldn’t believe it now. 

“No, you’re not,” he replied. There was uncertainty in his voice and he hated this state of vulnerability. Halt liked it when he knew what was going on and if he was in control of the situation; however, in this case, he was neither. He had to rely on other people’s explanations, but so far, he could only see Crowley in this weird place. There was no one else who could explain to him just where he was, or what happened. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Halt, but you died. This is the afterlife,” Crowley said as he pulled out a cluster of grass and started playing with it. Halt propped himself up on his elbows and looked around. With a mildly horrified expression, he looked at his best friend. 

“I can’t be! I was in the best of health this evening!” he protested weakly. He remembered yesterday’s ride with Abelard. He may have been in good health, but he was old. There were no exceptions to death, he knew. 

Suddenly, Halt realized what exactly felt off in this world. There was no wind. No sounds of nature, no animal making the slightest noise, nothing. It was just the two of them. They were making the only noise there was. The Hibernian swept his gaze across the meadow but failed to notice anything. The forest faded into dark colours as if the rest of the world never existed. 

Crowley threw the patch of grass behind him. 

“Oh, but you are, Halt. We’re both dead. You died of heart failure this night. Come on, chop-chop, get up!” Crowley jumped up like a deer. He was full of energy; energy Halt currently lacked. He felt weak; like he hadn’t had a proper rest in ages. 

“If you say chop-chop ever again, you’ll regret it,” he threatened but started to get up. Crowley offered him a helping hand, but Halt refused to take it. He could do this himself. Once he stood on his own two feet, not supported by anyone or anything, he took a few steps to get over the distance that separated him from Crowley. As uncharacteristic as it was for him, he pulled his best friend into a bear hug. Honestly, he was quite surprised Crowley didn’t take the first step. Halt knew he liked to hug people. 

“I’ll never forgive you if you ever die on me again,” he said into Crowley’s shoulder. The red-haired Ranger returned the hug, grasping Halt as tightly as he could. 

“Oh gods, I missed you, Crowley,” Halt mumbled; he felt a lone tear slide down his face and wet his beard, so he buried his face deeper in Crowley’s clothes. Hugging was, after all, just a reason to hide your face. He could to with that, but only this one time. He was never a hugger. 

When he felt that he endured this hug long enough, he tried to let go but quickly found out that he couldn’t. 

“Yeah, me too,” Crowley confessed, then released him from the embrace. “Come on, there’s a lot of people who want to greet you!”

He started to go towards the depths of the forest, seemingly into nothingness, and Halt rushed to keep pace with him. 

A lot of people wanted to greet him? He nearly couldn’t believe his ears. He followed his oldest friend into the forest. The darkness that ruled in there seemed to fade away as rays of sunlight shone through. 

“Why are we young again, anyways?” Halt asked. He felt like an apprentice, not knowing anything and having to rely on others. Crowley stopped and turned to face him. He was no longer young; instead, he appeared to be in his sixties, with a beard and some grey hair. Halt’s eyes widened in surprise before he could control his emotions.

“In this realm, you can will yourself to look like you want,” Crowley explained, changing his appearance back to his much younger self. “However, it comes with the pained back and creaking joints.” Halt quickly decided that he could suffer through old age sometime later. Preferably never. 

A few more steps and they left the forest and stepped onto a meadow. Halt could recognize some human-looking shapes but the sunshine was making it hard to see. The Ranger raised a hand to get some shadow. 

There, in the middle of the meadow, stood three figures and one horse. Halt gasped. 

“Is that?” he started but never finished his sentence. The horse really was Abelard. The first Ranger horse he ever got, the one on whom he headed into the middle of the Hackham Heath. 

Crowley stood a few steps away from Halt and watched as the grey horse neighed and trotted up to his owner. Abelard pushed his head into Halt’s chest and let himself be scratched behind the ears. 

From behind the flood of grey mane, Halt looked up. Pritchard was there; Caitlyn, too. And, that surprised him, Ferris. His own twin brother. No one dared to speak, even though Halt longed to go to Pritchard and Caitlyn. 

Then, Caitlyn looked at Ferris expectantly. The former king took a deep breath, swallowed, and blurted out: “Halt, I’m sorry.” 

The brothers looked at each other. Ferris didn’t break eye contact, for once. Halt tried to figure out if it’s an honest apology or if Caitlyn had something to do with it. In the end, the Ranger just nodded. It was enough. They acknowledged each other and were on a way to fix their relationship; it all started with one single sentence. 

Caitlyn was a whole different story. She ran at him so fast that he stumbled back and fell into the grass. She was smiling and her happiness was contagious. That was one of the rare moments when Halt allowed himself to smile. 

Later, when both Crowley and Halt sat in the grass with Pritchard with their horses grazing a few feet away, Halt felt calm. People down there must miss him a lot, Will and Gilan; Pauline, too, but the sadness will go away as they focus on their own lives. They still had their whole lives ahead of them, something to live for. Halt knew in heart that he belonged here. He was home. All was well. 


End file.
